


Merlin Drabbles

by beatlelover22



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Arthur is also kinky sometimes, Cold, Common Cold, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Merlin is kinky, Protective Arthur, Protective Merlin, Sick Arthur, Sick Merlin (Merlin), Sickfic, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-19 07:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatlelover22/pseuds/beatlelover22
Summary: “Bless,” Arthur murmured, gently playing with the frayed ends of Merlin’s scarf. “Is this new?”“Um, no? It’s the same — ah’KISH! — scarf I always wear.” He sniffled behind his wrist.





	1. Chapter 1

“Nhhh…” Merlin groaned, tossing in his sleep. 

Arthur opened a bleary eye and blindly groped for an opening in their tent. He drew back the fabric, allowing moonlight to illuminate the inside. Upon seeing the beads of sweat on his friend’s brow, Arthur inhaled sharply. “Merlin!”

The young man opened an eye. “Hmm?”

“You’re sweating! Are you hot?”

“N-no,” Merlin answered, confused. “I’m cold.”

Arthur’s heart sank. “That’s what I was afraid of.” 

He pinned the tent flap so as to let in some fresh night air. Then, he gently placed a hand on Merlin’s forehead. “You’ve definitely got a fever. Probably from all the travel we’ve done — you could’ve picked it up anywhere. It has been pretty damp… Maybe it was the damp? Ugh, you idiot.”

“’M fine…” Merlin tried brushing his hand away, but his breath caught instead. “ _Nn’ **TCH!**_ ”

“Bless. ‘’ll be right back, I’m going to get some water.” Arthur rummaged around until he found a cloth with the emblem of Camelot embroidered on it.

“Anything wrong, Sire?” Sir Leon asked as soon as Arthur stepped out of the tent. He’d been up keeping watch and noticed right away the worry in his king’s face.

“Merlin has a fever. I’m fetching water to see if I can bring it down.”

“Would you like me to?”

Arthur shook his hand, kneeling next to the brook. He submerged the cloth in the cool water, then rung it out. “No, no. I can manage, thanks.”

Leon nodded and walked back to his post.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “How do you fare?”

“I t-told you. I’m f-fine—  _hihhH’ **SHOO!**  Eh’ **SSHH!**_ ” He brought a hand to his nose, hoping to quell the itch. 

Arthur felt a pang of sympathy as he placed the wet cloth on Merlin’s forehead. “It’s cold, I’m sorry.” 

Merlin shivered in agreement. “ _Hiihh…. ihH!_ ” He placed a finger under his nose in efforts to stop the sneeze. Soon, Arthur’s hand was upon his, bringing it down. 

“Don’t do that, Merlin. You’re just tormenting yourself.”

Without having anything to effectively stop it, Merlin sneezed. “ _Het’ **CHH!**_ ”

“Bless you, Merlin,” Arthur told him, brushing away his bangs. “I wish Gaius were here to help you.”

“You’re doing a fine job,” Merlin breathed, smiling.


	2. Missing Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur is a sap and Merlin is cold.

“The sky is beautiful tonight, eh Merlin?”

“You’re such a sap,” Merlin replied grumpily, rubbing at his nose and blowing warm air into his hands. “It’s bloody freezing and we should be inside the tents like everyone else.”

“Everyone else is missing out,” Arthur said slowly. “And they’re probably already sleeping.”

Merlin’s mouth stretched into a rather large yawn at the mention of sleep. “Why don’t we join them?”

“Oh, would you stop complaining? Look at how many stars there are out tonight… it’s amazing, isn’t it?”

The young warlock could scarcely believe his ears. Usually he was the one going off on tangents like that. 

“Mm, yes. I guess it is.” A quick intake of breath, and Merlin quickly turned away from Arthur. “ _Heh’ **XXT!**_ ”

“Bless you,” Arthur replied, head tilted back, staring at the stars. Merlin’s head tilted back as well, albeit for a different reason.

“ _EhhH! Ih’ **SHOO!** Hup’ **SHHT!**_ ” He shivered miserably, still wanting to go inside.

“Oh, you’re cold?” Arthur teased. “You want my cloak?”

“Doe. I’b fide.”

“You certainly sound it.”

“Sh-shut  _uhh_ … up—  _her’ **ESHH!**_ ”


	3. Frayed Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur feels guilty (but also secretly finds himself enjoying Merlin's sneezes).

Merlin was wet, miserable and shaking like a leaf because of Arthur. And he knew it too. 

Arthur knew Merlin was sick, but still forced him to collect the knights’ equipment which one of the horse’s had mistakenly kicked into the creek. At first, Arthur had assumed Merlin was faking his illness — that the coughs and sneezes were nothing more than allergies. However, on the ride back home, the young warlock proved Arthur wrong.

“ _Hih’ **GNNNTT!**_ ” Merlin held the reins with one and and pinched his irritated nose with the other, earning a look from Gwaine. “ _N’ **GXXT!**_ ”

“I think Merlin’s catching cold thanks to you,” Gwaine pointed out playfully.

“Look at him shiver!” Leon said in astonishment. “He looks like he’s freezing.”

Merlin sniffled in response. “I had a cold before the trip.” 

Arthur glanced back at his servant and paid close attention to the flaring nostrils.

“ _Hah’ **SHHT!**_ ”

“Bless you!” chorused the Knights of Camelot, making the guilt bite at Arthur’s stomach.

* * *

“Merlin,” Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, later that night. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“Okay, sire.” He paused and his eyelids fluttered shut. “ _Hehhhh…. ehhH! Eh’ **GNNNT!**_ ”

Arthur strode over to his servant and laid a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around. “Merlin, I am truly sorry. You can go home now, you need to rest.”

Merlin quickly turned away from him to stifle a sneeze into his shoulder. “ _Hah’ **ISHHHH!**_ ”

“Bless,” Arthur murmured, gently playing with the frayed ends of Merlin’s scarf. “Is this new?”

“Um, no? It’s the same —  _ah’_ _ **KISH!**  _— scarf I always wear.” He sniffled behind his wrist.

“It suits you.”


	4. Not Helping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Merlin suffers from allergies and Arthur discovers the meaning of the word "sadism."

“Congratulations, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I think you’ve actually managed to entertain me properly for once.” He smirked as he watched his manservant attempt to make the bed.

“You’re  _nahhh… huhh…_ not helping, Arthur.”

The arrogant prince smiled. “I know. That’s the point.”

Merlin sniffed and ran a finger under his nose. “You’re torturing me? For fun? I  _th-thaahh_ … think there’s a w-word for that… sadism?” His nose itched unbearably, yet the sneeze just wouldn’t come.

“I’ve never heard of it before,” Arthur said, shrugging. “But maybe you could introduce me to this term. Sounds interesting.”

“I’m gonna —  _ahh… hahhH!_ ” The sneeze abruptly stop, leaving nothing but a twitch in it’s wake. “I hate this,” Merlin pouted. “And you don’t even care!”

“No, come on, I do care… it’s just funny.”

Merlin frowned, trying to stop his nostrils from flaring.

“Okay, okay, come here.” Arthur sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “The thing about sneezing is that usually, it’s a surprise or at least unexpected.”

“But I kn-know I have to…  _hahh_ … sneeze. No surprise.” His eyes were watering now and it was becoming more and more aggravating.

“But you can’t. Which means if I were to—” Arthur suddenly stopped talking and flicked Merlin on the nose.

The young warlock blinked in surprise as his nose gave a protesting twitch. “ _Ahh… hahh… hh’ **ESHHOO!** Ur’ **ESHH!**_ ” He sneezed into his sleeve and sighed in relief. “Ugh. Thanks.”


	5. Keeping It Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur has a raging headcold and Merlin's just trying to keep it together.

The banquet Arthur Pendragon is forced to endure is quite possibly the most boring thing in the history of boring things. Merlin is in the room as well, so that Arthur’s “cup never runs dry.” And it hasn’t because Arthur hasn’t yet touched it.

“Lords, noblemen, friends,” King Bayard begins his speech. “We are gathered here to celebrate not only the reunion of two kingdoms but also—”

Merlin watches Arthur closely. He appears to be… shaking. His fist rests near his closed mouth and his shoulders are moving slightly. Arthur’s father is staring at him as well and looks almost angry.

“I’m sorry,” Uther says to Bayard before turning to Arthur. “For God’s sake, let it out!”

Arthur’s entire face flushes red, but he indeed does let them out, a series of harsh coughs that make Merlin wince.

“My word, boy!” Bayard raises an eyebrow. “Are you quite well?”

Arthur shakily reaches for his glass of water before clearing his throat and answering. “Fine, fine.”

Bayard continues. “Gathered around this table are representatives from both kingdoms, Camelot and my own, Mercia. We—”

“ _Huhh’ **ESHHHOOO!**_ ” The sneeze both interrupts the speaker and reverberates throughout the banquet hall. Uther gives Arthur a look.

“We feast today with a meal of…”

Arthur could barely keep himself from falling asleep. Now Bayard was to name all the food items they were to dine on? For the love of Christ.

“Pig, of the highest degree. Lamb, cooked to—”

“ _Hurr’ **GHISSHHHH!**_ ”

“Pork, wild—”

“ _Eehhx’ **SHOO!**_ ”

Arthur’s face turns once more, a bright crimson. 

Uther sighs, as though it were him with a painful headache, and snaps his fingers at Merlin. “Servant boy! Take my son to his chambers.” 

Merlin briskly walks to the table, waiting on his master. “Sire?”

“Father, I’b fide!” Arthur argues. “I would dot wandt to leave the—”

“Go!” Uther orders and his son reluctantly stands up and departs with Merlin.

* * *

“I’m sure you’re really broken up about having to leave the feast,” Merlin points out, removing Arthur’s ceremonial clothes. He puts a tunic over Arthur’s head, which Arthur makes a point to unbutton immediately, revealing his open chest. Merlin tries hard not to stare.

“Oh, I’b terribly d-disappointed.  _ **KSHHH!**_ ” He turns away from Merlin quickly and thank God he does. 

Merlin likes seeing Arthur in this state. Not grievously ill, but ill enough that he can’t stop sneezing or sniffling for a second. 

“Ugh, this is actually very udcomfortable.” 

And his speech is affected.

“Is it?” Merlin asks politely, handing Arthur a change of trousers.

“Yes. By dose is so full yet id is idcessadtly tickling. Id’s infuriating.”

“Nothing a little rest can’t take care of.”

Arthur sits on his bed and rubs his nose miserably. “I hade this.”

“I know,” Merlin says, deciding it’s a time for being bold. He sits next to Arthur and stares at his bare legs, dangling off the bed.

“ _Hhh’ **GNISHSHHOOO!**_ ” Arthur turns his head away from Merlin and the servant is almost disappointed.

“Bless—” Merlin watches Arthur intently and sees his nostrils flare.

“ _Nn’ **EHTCHHOOO!**_ ” His nose, adorably pink around the edges, gives one final twitch that leaves Arthur gasping for breath. “ _Ehhh… hehhH!_   _HehhH’ **ESSHHHH!**_ ”

“Bless you,” Merlin tells him before pressing his lips against Arthur’s. To his relief, the prince doesn’t push him away or threaten death. Instead, he moans his name.


	6. Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur just thinks Merlin's sneezes are cute.

“This is such a nice day, wouldn’t you say Merlin?” Arthur glanced at his servant, grinning. “The sun is shining, the grass couldn’t be greener, the—”

“ _Hehh... heh’ **SHUH!**_ ”

“Merlin... did you just sneeze?” Arthur asked, fighting back a giggle. 

Merlin sniffed, annoyed. “Of course I sneezed! Haven’t you ever heard of s-spring —  _h-ahhh... ah... hah’SHHH!_ — allergies?”

Arthur laughed openly to Merlin’s great irritation. 

“Arthur it’s not  _f-fuh..._  funny,” he said, fighting off another sneeze.

“It’s not fuh... funny,” Arthur teased him.

Merlin crossed his arms. “Stop it! I  _cah_... can’t b-believe you dragged me out here in the first p-place...  _heh’ **SHHTCH!**_ ”

“You’re the cutest idiot I know,” Arthur said, punching him in the arm. 

Merlin glared at him. 

“What? I think they’re cute!”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Real —  _ **ETSCH!**_  — cute...”


	7. Seeing Red

“MERLIN!”

The prince’s voice echoed through the halls of Camelot, sending Merlin into a near-panic. He skidded past Arthur’s chambers by accident, then backtracked and threw open the door, breathing hard. “Y-yes sire?”

Arthur’s hair was sticking up in all different places as he paced around his room. His eyes were red and watery and he kept sniffling, every so often bringing his knuckles to his nose for a good rub.

“Arthur, are you crying?” Merlin asked, concerned.

“No, I’m not crying you daft —  _heh’ **RESHHOOO!**_ ” He sneezed fiercely, away from Merlin’s general direction, and followed up with a second. “ _Hh’ **TSHHHHUH!**_ ”

“Bless, sire.” Merlin understood perfectly well now.

Arthur peered out his open window. “What the hell are the doing down there?” He watched the servants bustling to and fro in the gardens.

Merlin scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “They’re erm… they’re maintaining the gardens.”

Arthur threw his hands up. “Maintaining the gardens? For whom? What need does Camelot have to be worried about —  _h-hih’ **SSHHH!** Hh’ **RRRRSHH!**  _— having the most beautiful blooms?”

“Well, Lord Bayard of Mercia is coming for a peace visit and—”

Arthur brought a shaking hand up to his nose before sneezing into it again in a desperate fashion. “ _Heh’ **KSSZSCHH!** E-ehh… hihH!  **SCSHISSSZH!**_ ” He swayed, dizzy from the sneezing, and Merlin was at his side in an instant, steadying the prince so that he could sit on his bed. “ _H-hih’ **TSHHHHH!**_ ”

Arthur sniffled quickly, his nose running. Merlin pressed his handkerchief into his hand and the prince brought it up to his trembling nose. “ _Hah’ **RISSZSCHH!**_ Gods, this itch is t-torturing b-be.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. It wasn’t long before Arthur was fuming again.

“Whatever they’re doing oud there is wreaking havoc on be. I cad’t have this endless —  _hap’ **SHHHUH!**_ — this endless sdeezing. Have them stop all work for the day.”

Merlin swallowed nervously. “But they’re working under the king’s orders.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, snuffling miserably into his handkerchief. “And you’re working under mine.” 


	8. Taking Precautions

Arthur Pendragon was on a hunt and naturally, his manservant Merlin, was sick. The only sounds accompanying the horses’ steps and the subsequent crunching of leaves was Merlin’s near-constant sniffling. And he knew there’d be repercussions. There always were. Merlin knew he’d eventually have to sneeze and the outcome would be bad. He could just see Arthur now, glaring at him and opening his mouth to say—

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s heart stopped. “Yes, Sire?”

“You’ve been sniffling all day,” Arthur said as the two trotted alongside each other. 

 _Don’t sniff, don’t sniff, don’t sniff,_ Merlin told himself. “Hmm. Have I?”

Arthur looked exasperated as the party trudged on. “Yes, you have. Are you well?”

To be fair, it was mid-winter, and Merlin could see his own breath coming out of his mouth like white smoke. He always seemed to catch cold in the winter season, and no remedy of Gaius’ nor any preventative measures could help. 

Without thinking, Merlin sniffled. 

“I’m fine,” he responded before hearing his breath catch. “ _H-hehh... heh’ **SHUH!**_ ” 

Merlin managed to turn his head to the side before another sneeze snuck up on him. “ _Het’ **CHSHUH!**_ ”

Arthur eased his horse to trot slower so that he was closer to his servant. 

“Merlin.”

“Hmm?” Merlin ran his sleeve under his nose and sniffled again, quieter this time. 

“Take my cloak,” Arthur said, shrugging off his extra layer and extending it to Merlin.

Merlin shook his head. “No, Sire, I can’t.” 

“You can and you will,” Arthur insisted, draping the cloak around Merlin. “I can’t have you catching cold and scaring all the game away with your sneezes.” 

Merlin’s ears were red and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold air or something else. But in an unfortunate sequence of events, Merlin sneezed again, desperately reaching for his horse’s neck to avoid falling. “ _Hup’ **TSHH!**_ ”

“Careful,” Arthur warned, giving Merlin a look. 

The look his servant returned was sheepish. “Sorry.”


	9. Blowing Out the Candle

The flame from the candle on Arthur’s bedside table flickered and cast unpleasant shadows on the walls of his room. Merlin sat beside his master’s bed, his back propped up against the table. Arthur had taken ill some days ago and — in a feverish daze — requested that Merlin stay with him through the night. Merlin was nodding off but a groan jolted him awake.

“Merlin...” Arthur moaned, turning restlessly in his sheets. “I’m so hot.” 

His blond hair was matted to his forehead and his skin gleamed with the sheen of sweat. Arthur blinked as his mouth slowly stretched into a yawn and he sneezed, barely able to contain it. “ _Hgk’ **NGKKT!**_ ”

“Bless,” Merlin said, quickly standing and helping Arthur sit up, his back propped by pillows. 

Arthur’s eyelids fluttered shut as he snapped forward with two more sneezes. “ _H-hihh’ **NNGT!**  Hh’ **NNCH!**_ Ugh...”

“Bless, Sire,” Merlin said again, pulling the sheets down to Arthur’s ankles. He dipped a nearby cloth into a pitcher of water sitting on the bedside table and wrung it out slowly. 

Merlin brushed Arthur’s sandy hair out of his face and placed the cool cloth on the man’s forehead. “You’re really warm.”

“Mm... I know.” The response was punctuated with a liquid sniffle. Arthur’s eyes were glazed and shiny — more evidence of fever — and his cheeks were tinged pink. He tugged at his tunic in a futile attempt to take it off. 

“Here,” Merlin said, pulling the shirt over his head. “You know, you’ll cool off faster with the candle out.” With a single breath, the flame dissipated.

“No!” Arthur’s voice quavered. “I... I don’t want the light out. It’s too dark. Merlin?” His hands were blindly grabbing for something, anything. 

Merlin’s hand found Arthur’s, and he squeezed it. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

Arthur’s sigh of relief was all he needed. Merlin sat back down next to Arthur’s bed and, still holding his hand, waited for him to fall back asleep.


	10. Pre-Tournament Jitters

“You ready for the t-tournament?” Merlin asked, breath hitching lightly.

Arthur rolled his eyes in response. “Um, no. Frankly, I’m not.”

Merlin gently placed a knuckle under his nose and rubbed. “Why? Nervous?”

“No. Because you haven’t put my armor on!” he snapped, gesturing to the pile of garments on the table.

“Right, of course.” Merlin jumped into action. “My apologies, S-Sire.  _Heh’ **GNNT!**_ ” 

He let a quick sneeze slip and then shook his head, as if to clear it. The young warlock tightly fastened Arthur’s breastplate to his chest.

Arthur let out a sudden gasp as Merlin adjusted the clasps. “ _Hghh_ —! Merlin! I’ll need to be able to breathe.”

“Sorry, Sire,” Merlin replied, loosing it a bit. His nostrils flared and the metal slipped through his fingers as he turned away, stifling two sneezes into his hands. “ _Hh’ **CH!** Hup’ **KKNT!**_ ”

“Merlin, are you well?”

The young man sniffled, still smiling. “Sorry, my Lord. Yes, it’s just the hay.” He pointed to the bales of hay in the stable before picking up Arthur’s chainmail. “You feel prepared for the tournament?”

“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “I’ve had time to size up my opponents. It shouldn’t be a bad match.”

“I dunno,” Merlin said, easing the chainmail over his prince’s head. “That L-Lord Nicolause looks pretty t-terrifying.  _H-hahh… hit’ **CH!** Hihh… hehhH! Heh’ **CHHT!**_ ” 

He sniffed wetly, rubbing his itchy nose on his wrist. “Does he frighten you?”

“Merlin…” Arthur started, annoyed. “What I’d like now is some silence.”

“ _Hup’ **CHH!**_ ”

“And my helmet,” he grumbled.


	11. Reality Is But a State of Mind

“You need to eat,” Merlin told his king, nodding towards the bowl of broth waiting for him. 

Arthur took one look at it and shook his head. “No thank you, I’m not very hungry.”

“What about a loaf of bread?” the young warlock asked. “I’ve also got potatoes, your favorite.”

A shiver raced over the king’s skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “N-no, honestly.” 

He cringed when Merlin pressed a cool cloth to his forehead.

“I thought you’d enjoy the damp rag... you’re still running a fever.”

“My—” Arthur stopped talking and suddenly pushed Merlin away, turning his head in the opposite direction. “ _Heh! Heh’ **SHUHH!** Hep’ **SHUHSHH!**_ ” 

He sniffled lightly, bringing a knuckle to his nose.

“Blessings. Handkerchief?”

Arthur shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Merlin smiled.”Of course you are.” 

He helped Arthur sit up against the backboard of his bed and reached for the spoon. “Three sips of broth, at least.”

This statement was met by a small groan from Arthur. Yet as Merlin brought the tablespoon to his lips, he yielded and accepted it, swallowing graciously. “Thank you, Mother.”

Although Merlin did not correct him or say anything further, Arthur blinked and felt his face flush more than it already was.”I’m sorry. I thought... I thought...” 

His nose wrinkled and Merlin felt his stomach flip. “ _Hh’ **SHHNK!** Hap’ **SHHOO!**_ ”

“Bless you,” Merlin responded, this time pressing the handkerchief into Arthur’s shaking hand. 

He brought it up to his trembling nose and gave one last sneeze. “ _Hup’ **PSHHH!**_ ”

“Bless.” Merlin set down the bowl of soup. “Perhaps you should rest a bit.”

“I’m okay, really,” Arthur tried to assure him, weakly giving his nose a rub. “Just my nose itches.”

“I know.” Merlin dabbed at Arthur’s brow, which was dotted with sweat. “Your fever should be breaking soon.”

“Merlin...” Arthur trailed off, his bleary eyes staring into Merlin’s blue ones. “Why are you doing this?”

Merlin set the damp cloth aside. “Because you’re my friend.”

“It must be so exhausting doing this day in, day out.” Arthur coughed a bit but Merlin was grinning.

“Your fever must be pretty high for you to be saying such things.” He squeezed the king’s shoulder.

Arthur brought a fist up and yawned into it, his body begging for rest.

Merlin gave him a small smile. “Get some sleep.” 

He brushed back the king’s bangs but let his hand linger there, on his forehead. The skin-to-skin contact between them made Merlin feel funny. Almost like he was—

“Hmm... your hand is cold,” Arthur murmured, trembling.

“Oh, apologi—” Merlin started to remove his hand, but Arthur reached up and grabbed the servant’s wrist.

“No, please, it... it feels good.”

Merlin nodded, the butterflies in his stomach starting up again.


End file.
